


5 iTunes Drabbles

by MedusasWrath



Category: Black Lagoon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 10:02:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15660969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedusasWrath/pseuds/MedusasWrath
Summary: Rules:1. Pick your favorite fandom2. Put iTunes on shuffle3. Write a drabble for five of them.4. You can only write for the duration of the song.





	5 iTunes Drabbles

Royals- Lorde

The sky was overcast with gray clouds. Rokuji Okujima stared pensively out at the big ocean blue as it whizzed by. They were given two days, two fucking days to finish this job. The weather was crisp, rather biting for fall. He swished the glass of cheap bourbon in his hand.

"Rock!" the slightly hoarse voice of Revy rang over the deafening hum of the ship. "Dutch wants you in here"

Alive or dead by the week's end, he was sure as hell gonna finish this glass. He gave it one last self-deprecating smile before downing the glass and hurling it out into the ocean. He was only mildly satisfied to see it disappear behind the waves. Amused perhaps was the better word. Something akin to drowning a puppy, watching at an agonizing pace as the life force was drowned out of it. (He'd sooner throw ten dozen crystal glasses into the ocean if only to his amusement.)

"Rock!" The voice cried out a little more impatiently.

The man's shoes squeaked on the metal bow of the ship as he spun around, saying goodbye to the ocean for perhaps the last time forever. He knew that in a few hours time, they would be giving the fight of their lives with everything they had. Damn, his ears already had started ringing.

And we'll never be royals (royals) It don't run in our blood, that kinda lux just ain't for us, we crave a different kinda buzz….  
.  
.  
.

Mordred's lullaby- Heather Dale

The hum was gentle in the back of the Russian woman's throat. She peered with an icy complexion (fake to him but unknowingly so to her) across to the sleeping child in the car. Her sergeant drove silently with a knowing eye. Despite the chilly exterior the Mafia queen radiated, the man thought perhaps secretly Balalaika cared about those two Romanian twins. He was not fooled however and knew the motive Balalaika presented to her posse was revenge on the boy's other half. The sleeping child was none the wiser. Boris almost felt sorry for her but the death of Menskove still stung wildly. Her white hair was splayed out across the worm seat of the limo. Boris's sharp eyes caught the twitch in his leader's hands as the child gave out a slight whimper in her dreams, not unlike that one of her age would usually emit. Coming from this particular girl, the sound was oddly misplaced. He returned his gaze back to the road. They might be raising this child for slaughter but the man had it in him to at least presume his queen's humanity. He knew it went far beyond that of revenge, and satisfaction. But she shouldn't worry, the secret was safe with him.  
.  
.  
.

Angel with a Shotgun-The Cab

The woman's eyes were hawks scouting a mouse, an arrow sharpened to the point- and they were crying. Big blue fucking tears. In Roanapur, everything goes, Eda knew that much. However, Sister Yolanda was…..old-fashioned, and the idea of her even screwing around with another woman was….scandalous. It was forbidden. So instead, the blonde woman kept her foul-mouthed pirate at an arm's length, cultivating the other woman's infatuation for the Japanese businessman every time she threw a suggestive wink his way. Hidden under the cover of night, she threw her bullets, wasted them on bodies thrown into Revy's path and shot her eyes, toxic blue at anyone brave enough to approach the pirate, hidden if not a habit, by some sickly pink sunglasses that portrayed everything she was not. She would protect her foul-mouthed friend, perhaps for the rest of her life. Who knew, time was short here in Roanapur and decent people few enough. What a fucking waste. She was a pretty girl after all.  
.  
.  
.  
Living Dead Girl, Rob Zombie

Blood ran down the side of the blade-woman's pure white coat and it filled her with glee. She gripped the knife in steady hands, her perfectly manicured fingers applying steady pressure. The smaller woman under her squirmed around-only a slight amount. She's gotten used to it by now.

"You now hold still!" Shenhua snapped "Now it all look bad now!"

To which the other woman rolled her eyes but endured. Only when the base had been withdrawn and properly cleaned did the woman lift her body from the bed. Shenhua stepped back to admire her work, frowning only when she noticed the blood matted in the other woman's cropped hair and the mess it was going to make on her bed.

"You're hair a mess!" She fussed crossing porcelain arms delicately.

The other woman chuckled and then rasped "Yes, but you like me this way don't you, Shenhua."

The woman in question smiled sweetly and leaned in, kissing darkly bloodstained lips passionately. She praised her good fortune. Sawyer was truly her living dead girl.  
.  
.  
.

On your side-Cin3ma

Gretel smiled prettily at her brother. The boy's hands were wrapped around her middle as he slept soundly. The bed they shared was much too large for her taste and the dent in the middle they made only seemed to further strengthen that revelation. The girl was no stranger to harsh words and strange touches. Everything hurt, always, and in that world of what she thought to be truly 'kill or be killed', she knew Hansel would always protect her. He had promised they would be together forever, and she believed him. Gretel sunk further into the shitty mattress, consoled by his body heat alone. Shitty, yeah, it was a shitty world, and Hansel? Hansel was truly the only one on her side.


End file.
